


unlike i anticipated

by somehowunbroken



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Break Up, Future Fic, M/M, Multi, Non-Chronological, Reconciliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-08-13 09:33:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7971907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somehowunbroken/pseuds/somehowunbroken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The year is 2021, the Oilers are lifting the Cup, and Jordan Eberle is considering his past and his future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	unlike i anticipated

**Author's Note:**

> ...look, S. linked me to [a gifset that had the kidline and a terrible quote](http://puckducky.tumblr.com/post/141987984279/emptynets-670-its-mathematics), and i immediately thought of a way to make it worse. she had the memorable reaction "I just almost shouted FUCK YOU in a restaurant," so naturally i had to proceed.
> 
> this fic is told in a non-chronological format. i have no idea how successful this ultimately was. feedback appreciated.
> 
> title from the sad middle bit of "thank goodness" from wicked which is, of course, the way i made the original gifset worse:  
>  _that's why I couldn't be happier_  
>  _no, I couldn't be happier_  
>  _though it is, I admit_  
>  _the tiniest bit unlike I anticipated_  
>  _but I couldn't be happier_  
>  _simply couldn't be happier_  
>  _\--well, not simply._  
>  _'cause getting your dreams_  
>  _it's strange, but it seems a little, well, complicated._  
>  _there's a kind of a sort of cost_  
>  _there's a couple of things get lost_  
>  _there are bridges you cross you didn't know you crossed until you've crossed_  
>  _and if that joy, that thrill doesn't thrill like you think it will_  
>  _still, with this perfect finale, the cheers and the ballyhoo--_  
>  _who wouldn't be happier?_  
>  _so I couldn't be happier_  
>  _because happy is what happens when all your dreams come true_  
>  _well, isn't it?_

They win the Cup.

Jordan can't believe it, if he's being honest with himself. The first five games of the series are a battle, trading ugly wins back and forth, but then they're back on home ice for game six and it's like everything clicks for the Oilers and the Canes can't get their shit together for ten seconds at a time. Connor's playing lights-out and making it look effortless, and where the captain leads so goes the rest of the team. They're up by three at the start of the third, and Nags looks absolutely placid in the net, as if this is some sort of practice instead of the most important game a backup goalie has ever played. The puck drops, and it's twenty minutes of absolutely unreal hockey; they score twice more and the wheels fall off the Canes' offense even as their defense sets grimly in. It's no use, though. The game ends 6-1, and Rogers Place goes deafeningly loud.

-0-

_7 October 2010_

They were more drunk than they should have been, probably, given the fact that the skate they'd have in the morning wasn't optional, but Jordan didn't care. They'd won their home opener. They'd won the first game of the season, a goal and an assist for Jordan but a slashing minor for Taylor, and Jordan wanted this feeling all the time.

"Just the start, baby," Taylor said, leaning down so he could direct his beaming smile right into Jordan's face. "Things are gonna change around here. This is just the start of everything."

Jordan couldn't help but smile back. "We're gonna do it here, you and me," he said. "And, like. The rest of the guys, but you and me, Hallsy. We're gonna win it."

"Hell yes," Taylor said, slurring a little and bumping into Jordan. They were definitely a few too many beers into the night. "Best friends, lifting the Cup together. Make the best even better, am I right?"

"Together," Jordan confirmed. "So much better than doing it by myself."

-0-

Connor gets the Cup first; Bettman looks like he's about to explode with sheer joy, or whatever passes for happiness in his life. Jordan's too far away to hear Connor's euphoric scream, but he can feel it reverberated back at him from the way the crowd gets impossibly louder as Connor raises it above his head and starts skating around with it.

"Holy shit," someone chokes out beside him. Jordan doesn't have to turn, doesn't have to know who it is, because he's enough of a churning mess on his own right now; his face is maybe going to split with how happy he is, smiling like he'll never stop.

He watches as Connor skates towards the group of players shouting and celebrating at center ice. There's no question as to who he's heading for, and sure enough, Ryan skates out of the crowd a few seconds later, whooping and shaking the Cup in the air as he makes his lap. 

"Ebs," someone shouts, and Jordan turns. Connor is skating towards him, hair curling out from under the sides of his cap, scraggly awful playoff beard stubbornly clinging to his chin. He comes to a stop beside Jordan and knocks their shoulders together. "He's coming to you next."

Jordan stiffens slightly, even though he really was expecting it. Something about getting the Cup from Ryan feels wrong. He's not examining why, but he's not fooling himself, either. "Davo…"

"Ebby," Connor cuts in. He's got a range of captain voices, and he's really good at using the right one in every situation. Right now, he's gentle, but also firm. "We won, okay? We did it. I got the Cup, and I gave it to Ry, and he's gonna give it to you." He smiles, and he's still so much that over-earnest kid Jordan remembers meeting six years ago. "I know it's not how you planned it, but you've got it now."

"Okay," Jordan says, taking a deep breath. He gives Connor a smile that feels less forced than he thought it would've been, and Connor's own smile turns up another notch. "Thanks, Captain."

Connor claps him on the shoulder. "Here he comes," he says, spinning Jordan a half-turn to his right.

Ryan's skating towards him, and Jordan knows the look on his face from the inside. He's thrilled beyond expression, but there's something a little haunted in his eyes as he stops in front of Jordan and holds the Cup up.

"Yeah," Ryan says softly, at odds with the exuberant way he leans in to smack an obnoxious kiss against Jordan's cheek. He pulls back and holds the Cup out. "I know, Ebs. But we got it, eh?"

"We got it," Jordan confirms, smiling back at Ryan. He holds his hands out and Ryan passes the Cup over, and Jordan skates and skates and doesn't think about who's not there to share it with him, not at all.

-0-

_Late November 2016_

It was gradual but not slow; there was less of a sense of things ending than there was a sense that they already had, and Jordan just took his time realising it. He wasn't actually surprised when Ryan came in and sat on the sofa one night, pulling his feet up under him like he always did, and levelled him with a look. "How long are we going to keep pretending this is working?" he asked quietly.

"I don't know what else to do," Jordan admitted.

Ryan leaned over and kissed him once, brief, chaste. "We both know, Jordan."

He did. They both did. It didn't help, didn't make Jordan feel less like he was left holding his stick at at the boards, waiting for a pass that wasn't going to come from phantom teammates who weren't there.

-0-

Jordan's heard it a thousand times: the Stanley Cup is the lightest 35 pounds you'll ever deadlift. He'd always understood the sentiment in an abstract sort of way; when he'd first started with the Oilers, he'd thought that he'd know it more concretely soon. He'd pushed those dreams back year after year until they'd settled in the back of his mind, something he'd always know but never experience.

Now he can say it with certainty. The Stanley Cup feels weightless as he holds it over his head, stares up at it, brings it down so he can press his lips to the side.

He's thirty-two years old, and as he passes the Cup off to Nursey, he feels ancient, tired. He feels every hit, every overextended muscle and aching joint. He's reached the top.

He feels like he might be done.

-0-

_Mid-July 2016_

"I just," Taylor said, not meeting Jordan's eyes. Ryan's, either. He was staring at a spot on the floor, refusing to look up. "I don't… I don't think I can do this."

Jordan didn't reach out, not for Ryan and not for Taylor. He had to grip at his shorts, twisting the fabric in his hands, but he didn't reach out. "What do you mean?" he managed.

"This," Taylor said, flapping his hand towards the sofa, where Ryan and Jordan were sitting. He'd opted for the recliner across the room instead; Jordan got why, now. "I'm not sure I can. I'm not sure it's worth trying."

Ryan inhaled sharply. "Taylor," he said quietly.

"You guys should," Taylor went on, like Ryan hadn't said anything. "You're still solid even if I'm in New Jersey. You don't… you don't need me to be happy."

"Taylor," Jordan said, echoing Ryan. He felt like he was short of breath, like he was on the verge of panicking. Maybe he was already panicking. "You're breaking up with us?"

Taylor swallowed hard enough that Jordan could see his throat working, and finally looked up. "Yeah."

-0-

"You don't have to decide right away," Ryan says. Jordan knows it's true, but he also knows himself; he won't do anything else until he makes up his mind. He sighs and shrugs a little, and Ryan quirks half a smile at him. Ryan still knows him, even if they broke up after Taylor left, even if Ryan's been able to heal and move on and fall completely head over heels for Connor. Jordan doesn't want to say he's been wallowing for the past five years, but all he has to do is look at Ryan to know that he has been.

"I feel like I've already made up my mind," Jordan admits after a minute. "Like, in the back of my head, I'm totally calm about the whole idea. It's just the rest of me that's trying to catch up."

"Retirement," Ryan says, and the word hangs there between them for a little while before Ryan shakes his head a little. It makes the light catch off the chain around his neck; Jordan can't see the ring that hangs on it because Ryan keeps it tucked into his shirt, but he knows it's there. The ache of it is old and mostly hidden, and it's definitely something Jordan can and will ignore. Ryan smiles at him again. "You're not that old, Jordan. You could keep going."

Jordan nods a little. "I don't think I want to," he says, quiet and quick. He knows Ryan will hear him anyway.

"Then don't," Ryan says simply. "There's a hundred things you could do instead, you know?" He shifts a little in his seat. "You know I'm behind you. Whatever you choose."

It's not the first time Jordan's been glad that they were able to stay friends. They didn't have much of a choice but to find a way to work together, but they were friends before everything and they found a way to keep that even after Taylor left. It's more than either of them can say about Taylor, but it's not for lack of trying on their parts.

"Thanks," Jordan says instead of voicing any of that. It's not news to Ryan, and there's no point in dragging it up now. "You're the best, Nuge, you know that?"

Ryan smiles, bright and full. "I always have been," he says. "Why change now?"

-0-

_Early January 2012_

If there was only one truth in the universe, Jordan was convinced it was that injuries sucked. He was stuck at home icing his knee while the rest of the team played, and the only thing that kept him from vibrating out of his skin was Ryan being on IR, too. He didn't like feeling glad about that, but Jordan also wasn't a huge fan of lying to himself.

"We need to figure out something else to do," Ryan declared about two weeks in. Jordan was doing serious PT, rehabbing himself and getting towards the point of being able to skate again, but Ryan was going to be out for a while longer. "There's only so much NHL '11 I can play."

Jordan knew what he meant; the only time he was able to play video game hockey without missing actual hockey was over the summer. Playing it over and over without being able to skate was kind of awful, but at least Jordan knew he was headed that way. There wasn't a timetable for Ryan, not yet.

"Okay," Jordan said, setting his controller down. "Got any ideas?"

Ryan tilted his head to the side and looked at Jordan like he was considering something. Jordan waited him out; they were both patient guys by nature, and Ryan would say whatever was on his mind when he was ready to. It drove Taylor crazy, usually, but Taylor was at practice, so Jordan just sat and waited.

"This isn't just because I'm bored," he finally said. "And it's not just for you, so don't get any ideas."

"Okay," Jordan said slowly.

Ryan got up and walked to Jordan's edge of the sofa, sitting pressed right up against him. Jordan was pretty sure he knew what was coming, and as Ryan leaned in and kissed him, coaxing and sure, Jordan leaned in and kissed back.

"Not just for me?" Jordan asked when Ryan pulled back. He looked good, Jordan noted: flush high on his cheeks, lips obviously kiss-red, hair mussed on one side from where Jordan had pushed his hand into it.

Ryan grinned. "I was thinking about sharing with Taylor, too," he said, somehow managing to sound nonchalant. "And then you guys sharing with each other."

Jordan's heartbeat picked up as he tried not to nod too frantically. "And the end goal here is…"

"Repetition," Ryan said. "I like you guys. Both of you. And, correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm getting that vibe off the two of you, too." He waited for Jordan to nod before going on. "I think it'd work, the three of us. If we're willing to put the time in."

"Let's talk to Taylor," Jordan said, but he reached out and took Ryan's hand. "But, uh. I'm definitely interested."

"Oh, good," Ryan said, smiling almost sweetly. "Me too."

-0-

Jordan talks to Ryan, then Connor, then management. He's glad he does it in that order; Ryan and Connor are both completely in his corner, but management tries to wheedle another contract out of him. "You just won the Cup," Chiarelli says, giving him a smile that Jordan has never once trusted. "Don't you want a little more time here? Another shot?"

Jordan smiles and thanks him and sticks to his guns. He's not sure he'd've had the guts to, if he didn't know that he had support from his friends. He's not interested in another contract; it's not about the money, it's not about the hockey, it's not about the locker room. He's just done, and finally he seems to get that through to Chiarelli. He leaves feeling lighter, somehow, but he can't lie and say he's not reeling a little, too.

He calls Connor as soon as he gets in the car. The Oilers didn't always have a captain while Jordan was there, but Connor's been a good one, will continue to be so. He answers on the second ring. "Hey, Ebs. How'd it go?"

"I retired," he says, a little panicky. "Chiarelli tried to talk me into staying, but I said no. I'm retiring, Davo."

Connor laughs softly. There's such a striking difference between on-ice Connor and away-from-the-rink Connor; it'd be more striking if a lot of hockey guys weren't that way, but Jordan notices it all the same. "D'you want to stop by? Ryan and I are just getting stuff together for supper."

Jordan squints at something out his windshield. It's a kid in an Oilers jersey, stickhandling a road hockey ball in the parking lot; Jordan can't help but smile fondly as the kid takes a shot and then raises his arms in celebration. "Did you guys plan for me tonight, or…"

"We totally did," Connor confirms. "Please come save me, Ebs, or I'll have to eat a whole extra steak."

"Right, because Nuge would totally not take half of it for himself," Jordan scoffs, starting his car.

Connor hums. "Not if he knows what's good for him, he wouldn't."

"Spare me the husbands talk," Jordan says hurriedly. Mostly he can handle it, honestly, but he's feeling raw right now. Maybe he should take a rain check on supper.

"We'll keep our hands to ourselves," Connor promises. Jordan's going to miss how good Connor is at reading him. Unless he stays in Edmonton; he's not really sure what he's going to do, now that he's done playing.

Jordan sighs. "I guess I believe you. Need me to bring anything?"

There's a small noise and then muffled talking; Connor's probably asking Ryan, since Ryan's the one in charge of cooking. It's to everyone's benefit. "Ryan says no, but I say wine," he says decisively. "I don't like pinot noir, and that's what Ryan got."

"It goes with the steak," Ryan says loudly. "I didn't get it to torture you."

"It tastes like rotten cherries," Connor says solemnly. "There has to be another wine that goes with steak."

Jordan laughs. "I'll stop at the store," he promises. "See you in half an hour or so."

-0-

_Late January 2014_

"Oh my god, stop," Jordan said, laughing as Ryan stoically cut another bite off of his chicken breast and shoved it into his mouth. He chewed mechanically and took a big gulp of water before trying to swallow. "We get it, okay. If we want to surprise you with food in the future, we should order in."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Ryan said, completely deadpan as he hacked another bite off of his chicken. "This is delicious. Thanks, guys."

"He's lying," Taylor mock-whispered from Jordan's other side. "This is terrible. I don't even want to eat it, and I _made_ it."

"You're really good at KD," Jordan said consolingly.

Ryan nodded. "Maybe stick to things that have directions in the future," he suggested. "Like KD. Or those meals that you just have to put in the oven." He stubbornly cut off another bite of chicken, but before he could put it into his mouth, Taylor leaned over and plucked the fork out of his hands.

"We'll order something, oh my god," Taylor said, grinning. "Romantic anniversary dinner was a bust. Don't break a tooth pretending it wasn't."

Ryan's answering smile was unexpectedly sweet. "I appreciate the thought, guys. Thanks."

Taylor leaned in to press a quick kiss to Ryan's mouth before pulling back. He surveyed the meal he and Jordan had spent way too long making before shaking his head gravely. "I don't think there's any saving it," he sighed. "I'll clean it up while you guys order something?"

"It's a date," Jordan said, smiling as Taylor and Ryan both turned their smiles on him.

-0-

"So what are you going to do now?" Ryan asks while they're eating. Jordan cuts a piece off of his steak slowly, trying to gather his thoughts. It's fantastic, as is everything Ryan takes the time to cook, so Jordan only feels a little bit like he's stalling for time instead of just enjoying a home-cooked meal.

"I don't really know," he admits after a minute. "It seems kind of dumb? But I don't really have a plan from this point on."

"You don't have to know yet," Connor assures him. He takes a sip of the perfectly reasonable merlot that Jordan had picked up on his way over. "You can take your time figuring it out, if you have to. And you know that the Oilers will keep you around if you want a job here."

Jordan half-shrugs. "I really don't know," he says again. "I might stay. I might take some time off. There are a lot of things I might do, I guess."

"Okay," Ryan says reasonably. "What are you doing tonight? We aren't heading out for another week, so if you want to hang out here, that's fine with us."

It's tempting; part of him will always want to curl up somewhere with people he knows, people he loves and has loved. Connor doesn't mean the same thing to him as Ryan does, but that doesn't mean Jordan loves him any less fiercely for the difference. He knows better than to let himself, though. Sometimes the thing you want most desperately to do is the thing that'll hurt you more, in the end.

"Thanks, but no thanks," he says.

Ryan nods and gives him a smile. "Okay."

-0-

_Mid-August 2016_

"Do you…" Jordan said, swallowing thickly. It felt wrong, being in the home he'd made with Taylor and Ryan, knowing that Taylor wasn't coming back here. "Do you want to? Without Taylor?"

"I want to try," Ryan said. Jordan had never known him to look anything but composed; he looked tired, though, like he'd spent the night tossing and turning. Like maybe he'd spent a lot of nights that way in the past month and a half. "I don't know if it'll work, but I still…"

Jordan nodded. "Yeah." He didn't know if they had a shot without Taylor; he was a little afraid to find out, but he was more afraid of not trying. "Okay. Let's just see how it goes."

Ryan leaned in and kissed him, soft and sure. "We can do that," he agreed.

-0-

It's Connor who turns up on Jordan's doorstep a few days later. He's not actually surprised; it was even odds which one of them would break first, or who lost at drawing straws, whatever it came down to.

"Hey," he says, stepping back to let Connor in. "When do you guys leave?"

"Three days," Connor says. "We're heading back to Toronto, doing Biosteel, having my Cup day. We'll go back to BC after that, for Ryan's day and the rest of the summer."

On his pettier days, Jordan hates how easily Connor and Ryan manage their lives, their life. It's something he'd always wondered about back when the three of them had been together, how they could manage their time and keep things from being too much, or not enough. On his worst days, he thinks that it might have been a lack of effort that caused them to fall apart like they did.

Today's not a bad day, though, so Jordan just smiles. "Sounds fun," he says.

He waits; he's been out-stubborning hockey players since before Connor was giving serious thought to juniors. It doesn't take long for Connor to sigh a little and shake his head at Jordan, a small smile playing at his lips. "If you want to reach out," he says carefully, "I think Hallsy would want to reconnect. To… I don't want to speak for him, but."

"You," Jordan says, but he doesn't have anything to say after that. It's rare that he's speechless, but every time it happens, Taylor's involved in some way. "What's 'but?'"

Connor shakes his head. "You should reach out to him," he says, gentle this time. "If that's something you want to do. You deserve the chance to be happy too, Jordan."

Jordan jerks back a little as the implications of what Connor's saying sink in. "You want me to get back together with him?" he asks, disbelief evident in his voice. "Are you—and without Ryan? There's no way."

"Ryan just wants you to be happy," Connor counters. "If that's with Taylor, he'll just be happy for you. If it's not, well, as long as you're happy, he'll still be happy for you." He worries at his lip for a moment, a nervous habit he doesn't seem particularly interested in breaking. "Look, he… don't tell him I told you this."

"Okay," Jordan says cautiously.

"He feels bad, sometimes," Connor says quietly, looking down and twisting the ring around his finger. They're not married, not legally; there was a ceremony last summer, but it was all about promises and the future. Jordan had cried, and it was even mostly about how nice the whole ceremony had been. "He doesn't want anyone to know, I'm pretty sure, but he feels bad about moving on when you and Taylor…"

"Haven't," Jordan finishes for him when Connor trails off. Connor nods without looking up. Jordan closes his eyes and sighs. "Jesus, Ryan."

"He still cares, you know?" Connor says. "He doesn't not still love you just because he and I are together now."

That's just how Ryan works, Jordan knows. It took him a long, long time to realise it, but Ryan's got a huge capacity for love and affection, even if he's not always the most outwardly demonstrative guy. He doesn't want Ryan to feel bad about them breaking up; Ryan's happy, and he deserves every bit of it. He shouldn't feel bad that Jordan can't get his shit together.

"I don't know," Jordan says, and it comes out unsteady, half-whispered. "It's been five years."

"Just talk to him," Connor says. "If you want him, Jordan, make that first step."

-0-

_Mid-February 2018_

"So," Connor said, sitting down next to Jordan.

Jordan looked around; Ryan was in his usual seat, but Leon was sitting next to him instead of in his seat beside Jordan, and he looked just as bewildered as Jordan was feeling. "Hi?"

"I wanted to talk to you," Connor said, buckling his seatbelt. "And hey, we're on an airplane, so you can't actually run away from me."

Jordan couldn't help the way he bristled. "Davo—"

"You can tell me to fuck off," Connor said calmly. "But I think there's something you need to hear first. Can you give me ten minutes?"

"I already regret agreeing to this," Jordan said, sighing. "Go for it."

Connor didn't, of course; he waited until they were in the air, comfortably at cruising altitude. It might have been a tactic to draw Jordan into a sense of security, but he didn't fall for it. Finally, Connor turned to him. "So I heard from Gaz today."

Jordan was right; he definitely regretted saying yes to this conversation. "Hope he's doing well," he replied.

"He is," Connor said bluntly. "Hallsy's a fucking mess."

"Davo," Jordan breathed out, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Look," Connor said, voice a lot more gentle. "I know he pushed everyone away after the trade. I know about what happened with the three of you, and I know it hasn't really been easy for you." That's an understatement, Jordan thought hysterically; Connor and Ryan moved in together at the start of the season, and Jordan knew intimately what Ryan looked like when he was in love with someone.

"Yeah," Jordan said. It was all he could manage.

"I just think," Connor said quietly, "if you want to reconnect, I think he'd be open to that."

Jordan snorted, inelegant and brutal in the quiet. "What, because he's mended fences with you?"

"We're getting there," Connor said, refusing to be ruffled. "We text."

"You text," Jordan repeated. He was at a bit of a loss. "And he told you he wants to talk to me? Why doesn't he text me?"

"Maybe he feels bad about how he left things," Connor said. Jordan flinched, trying to forget the last text he'd gotten from Taylor, a desperate _just leave me alone_ three months after the start of their first season no longer being teammates.

"He maybe should," he muttered without elaborating.

"Maybe," Connor agreed. "If it was anything like what he said to Ryan, then I believe you. He said a lot of things right after that he probably wishes he could take back."

"That doesn't mean he can," Jordan said. "He can be as sorry as he wants. It doesn't mean he's not still the person who said all that shit."

Connor was quiet for a long moment. "You don't have to forgive him," he finally said. "You don't have to be friends with him, Jordan, but sometimes it seems like you're holding yourself responsible for the fact that you're not." He sighed. "I just wanted you to know, okay? You can do whatever you want with the information."

Jordan nodded. "I'm invoking that 'fuck off' clause now," he said, "Give me Leon. We're watching some terrible German soap opera, and I need an episode of that right now."

"Whatever you say," Connor said, unbuckling his seatbelt and standing up. "Let me know if you need anything else, okay?"

"You're a good captain," Jordan replied. He wasn't sure anyone told Connor that enough. "Right now, soap opera. I'll keep you posted on anything else."

-0-

Jordan isn't nervous, exactly, except he's not sure how else to describe what he's feeling. He's in his car outside Connor and Ryan's place, trying to convince himself to go inside.

His phone rings before he manages to work up the nerve. Jordan glances at it and sees Ryan's face smiling up at him, and when he looks up at the house, Ryan is standing in the bay window, holding his phone up. He points at it, and Jordan answers the call, feeling ridiculous.

"You don't have to come in if you don't want to," Ryan says. "We don't have to have this conversation if you don't want to, Jordan. Connor wasn't telling you any of that stuff to guilt you into talking to Taylor, and you don't have to do it if you don't want to."

"That sounds an awful lot like having this conversation," Jordan says, watching Ryan through two panes of glass.

Ryan quirks a smile at him and shrugs a shoulder. "We can be done if you want. Connor's downtown arguing with someone, something something his watch band is broken, so if you want to come in and have a beer and talk golf, we can do that too."

Jordan's never not going to be at least a little bit in love with him, probably. He always thinks he's got a handle on that, but then he realises it over and over again, and it's always surprising. Maybe he should be trying to get used to the idea of it surprising him instead.

He sighs a little. "I'll come in," he says. He waits until Ryan nods to hang up and climb out of his car.

It's useless to take his time making his way up to the door now, so Jordan walks up and lets himself in. Ryan's still standing in the den, but he's turned so he's facing Jordan. "Hi," Jordan says uselessly.

"It's okay, you know?" Ryan says quietly. "It's okay to still want to be with him, Jordan."

Jordan feels a little bit like his strings have been cut; he sucks in a breath, and Ryan's there in a heartbeat, wrapping his arms around Jordan and tugging him in. He buries his face in Ryan's shoulder and clings a little, but Ryan doesn't press him, just waits until he's ready to talk.

"I don't think I ever fell out of love with him," Jordan finally says into the fabric of Ryan's shirt. "Not that I didn't love you, but—"

"We had a chance to end things," Ryan finishes for him. "We had a chance to move on from each other. With Taylor…"

"He just left," Jordan says. "How can I still want to give this a shot?"

Ryan sighs deeply enough that Jordan can feel it, chest expanding and contracting against him. "Because he was reeling, and he was hurt, and he lashed out. And he hurt you, but Jordan, you're one of the most forgiving, loving people I've ever met. If anyone was willing to give him another chance, it'd be you."

Jordan chokes on a laugh that feels like it might come out as a sob if he'd let it. "I still love you too, you know?"

"I know," Ryan says, hugging him tighter. "I love you, too, okay? It's different, but I do."

"I know," Jordan echoes. "Is it weird that I want this, but I'm still kind of terrified?"

Ryan huffs out a little laugh. "Nah. It's always pretty terrifying to be the one putting yourself out there."

"And you're really okay with it," Jordan says. "With me and Taylor, without you."

That's what makes Ryan pull away, but he doesn't go far. He looks at Jordan, face serious. "I want you to be happy," he says. "I want Taylor to be happy. If you guys can be happy together, then I'm just going to be happy for you both. There's no way I'd hold that against either one of you, okay?"

Jordan swallows hard. "If he hadn't been traded," he starts.

Ryan shakes his head. "Don't," he says quietly. "You're gonna be okay, Jordan. We were happy together, but he got traded, and life went on." He smiles a little. "Rude."

"So rude," Jordan says, laughing a little. "I'm glad you and Connor are happy. You know that, right?"

Ryan smiles, a full, real smile. "I know. Thanks anyway."

Jordan takes a deep breath, leans in, and presses a kiss to Ryan's cheek, then turns and heads back to his car.

-0-

_Early October 2017_

"Hey," Ryan said. "Are you free after practice? I need to talk to you."

"That's a little ominous," Jordan replied, wiping his face on his sleeve. He tried not to let himself worry. "You okay?"

Ryan smiled. "Yeah, I'm good. It's nothing bad."

"Okay," Jordan said. "I'll meet you at the deli?"

"Sure," Ryan said, then skated away. Jordan tried not to let himself wonder through the rest of practice, but he wasn't really successful.

Ryan was already at the deli when Jordan walked in, and he waved him over with a smile. "I ordered for you," he said as Jordan sat. "Hope you haven't changed your sandwich preferences or anything crazy like that."

"I love liverwurst now," Jordan said solemnly. "You caught me."

"You once described liverwurst as smelling like rotting cat food," Ryan pointed out, grinning. "I think I'm safe in calling bullshit."

"Caught me," Jordan said, grinning back. "So, what's up?"

Ryan's smile got quieter, but he looked no less happy for it. "I'm seeing someone, and I didn't want it to surprise you," he said. "I talked to him last night, and he said that if I thought you should know, then he had no problem with me telling you."

Jordan sat back in the booth, grabbing for his water and taking a sip just to buy himself a few seconds. He wasn't shocked, really, and he wasn't feeling jealous. It was more… an ache, maybe. He knew that he wasn't anywhere close to ready to find someone.

"Okay," he finally said, setting his glass back down. "Thanks for telling me. I'm… I'm happy for you."

"You don't have to be," Ryan said, giving him a measured look. "You can be upset."

Jordan forced himself to laugh. It sounded weak, but he powered through it. "It's been almost a year," he said. "It's not like we broke up yesterday."

"Even so," Ryan said, fiddling with his napkin. "I wanted you to know, but I wasn't sure… I didn't think you'd be pissed, but still."

"Do I know him?" Jordan asked. As soon as the question left his mouth, though, he knew. "It's Davo, isn't it?"

Jordan had always liked how Ryan blushed; he got a faint line of color across his cheekbones, nothing like the blotchy mess that Jordan's own face tended to display. He knew he was right as soon as it appeared now, even before Ryan nodded. "I like him a lot," Ryan confided quietly.

And, well, how was Jordan supposed to object to that?

-0-

Jordan feels aimless, untethered. He spends a week packing things in his apartment without a clear purpose in mind; it's not so much his normal summer preparations as it is just something to do with his time. Sometimes he thinks about Taylor, and sometimes he thinks about anything but Taylor.

He waits until he's sure that Connor and Ryan are settled in Toronto before he calls. He's a little relieved when it goes to voicemail, if he's being honest with himself, but halfway through him stuttering out his message, his phone beeps. When Jordan pulls his phone back to look, it's Connor already calling him back. Of course it is.

"Hey," Connor greets. "What's up? How are you doing?"

"Why are you so prompt?" Jordan asks. He's not whining, he doesn't think, even if he kind of feels like it. "I was leaving you a message."

"To call you back, I'm sure," Connor says, amused. "What's going on?"

Jordan sighs a little. "I was wondering," he says, hedging a little. "Uh. Do you know what Taylor's schedule is like over the summer?"

"Not offhand," Connor says. "We've got Biosteel together, but I'm not sure other than that."

"Oh." Jordan deflates a little. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense. Uh, never mind, then."

There's a noise in the background, but Connor just hums a little in response. "I can call him," he says. "We were thinking about doing a charity thing together later in the summer. I can find out when he'll be around if you want, Ebs."

Jordan swallows hard. "Please," he says quietly.

"Then I'll let you know," Connor promises. "This is a good thing, right? You're doing it because you really do want to?"

"Yeah," Jordan says, letting out a breath. "I think I do."

-0-

_Late December 2016_

Jordan Eberle: hey tay just wanted to check in  
Jordan Eberle: see how things are going  
Jordan Eberle: i miss talking to you

Jordan Eberle: hey taylor how's it going?  
Jordan Eberle: haven't heard from you in a while  
Jordan Eberle: just let me know you're ok?

Jordan Eberle: hey

Taylor Hall: just leave me alone  
Taylor Hall: please

-0-

He tells himself that he'll have a plan as to what he's doing by the time his plane lands in Toronto, then by the time he gets his rental, then by the time he makes the drive out to Kingston. Still, Jordan isn't all that shocked to find himself standing at Taylor's door with no real idea of what he's supposed to do from here.

Maybe he should just go to the hotel, he thinks, staring at the door. He can regroup, maybe come up with some sort of actual plan—

The door opens, and Taylor's eyes widen as he sees Jordan. Jordan swallows and feels his throat click. He doesn't know what he's doing.

"Are you still Cup-drunk?" Taylor asks after a moment. "Because you don't look so great."

"Do you remember," Jordan starts. He wants so badly to reach out, but he clenches his fists at his sides. "We said we were gonna do it together, that it would mean more that way. Do you remember?"

Taylor breathes in sharply. "We were kids. Drunk kids."

"We were right," Jordan corrects, doing his best to smile. He doesn't know how to express what he's feeling, that he'd happily hand the Cup to the Flames if it meant that Taylor had gotten to stay, or if Jordan could've gone with him. It sounds overly dramatic in his own head, and besides, he's pretty sure saying it would just piss Taylor off. "When we won, right after, I wanted to hand it to you so badly."

Taylor takes a small step back into his apartment. "What about Ryan?"

Jordan shrugs a little. "Ryan's happy. He's so, so happy. and he said..."

He has to close his eyes and take a deep breath. It's all coming back now that Taylor's in front of him: how happy they'd been, how hard it had been to let go of Taylor, how much it had hurt to lose Ryan even though neither of them had gone anywhere. There's not so much a sense of loss as he's felt in the past, though. It's more just... memory, and Jordan realises with a little bit of a start that he's ready to let the past be the past. He's ready to move forward.

"Ryan said he just wants me to be happy. And he wants you to be happy, and if it's us together or us with other people, as long as we're happy..." Jordan opens his eyes. "I don't know, Taylor. I don't know if you want to do this without Ryan, or if you're interested at all. If you want me to go, I'll go. I just wanted to let you know that I'm here, and I want to know if you want to try again, just the two of us."

Taylor regards him for a long moment, and just as Jordan's preparing to open his mouth to offer to go, Taylor takes another step back.

"C'mon in," he says, giving Jordan a tentative smile. "Let's talk."

**Author's Note:**

> -honestly, the most unrealistic thing about this fic is the thought that chiarelli will still be the oilers' GM in 2021, just saying.
> 
> -[oildropped](http://oildropped.tumblr.com) made an [absolutely incredible edit for this fic](https://oildropped.tumblr.com/post/156421085162/unlike-i-anticipated-by-somehowunbroken-do-you) and you should definitely take a look at it! thanks, oildropped <3
> 
> -[follow me on tumblr](http://somehowunbroken.tumblr.com)! hockey starts soon. i promise lots of crying.


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